


awake but still falling

by nyaladin



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Sharing a Bed, au: the boyfriend doesn't exist, timeline: post ep 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 08:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19016665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyaladin/pseuds/nyaladin
Summary: Wato has a nightmare. Sherlock wakes her up and comforts her. Feelings ensue.





	awake but still falling

**Author's Note:**

> 1) i'm not a native english speaker and i used a few new (to me) words and phrases here so PLEASE let me know if something doesn't make sense  
> 2) i wanted to write something like this ever since finishing the series, enjoy!

Wato felt the hot dry Syrian sun on her skin as she made her way back to the hospital. She exchanged smiles with the kids that passed her. She was excited to see her patients again. She thought about them, how happy they were to see her every time, how they always tried to sit up on their beds despite being weak. How they could find a reason to smile even in such disastrous circumstances.

Then the bomb landed.

She saw children's faces morph into grimaces before a painfully loud static surrounded her. She was sitting on a chair, her ankles and wrists bound to it. She frantically looked around. The girl with glasses was standing by the machine, increasing the voltage and smiling. „No no no no please no” Wato heard herself whimper. She felt something wrench inside her. She was burning alive and being torn up like a paper sheet at the same time. Everything turned black.

She was lying on the ground. The ground was concrete, hard and rough as she felt it beneath herself. She sat up and then she saw Sherlock, sitting with her legs crossed in front of her. She was fidgeting with a knife but her hands were bound like in the rep. Takayama's house. Sherlock's eyes were empty and unblinking, staring into oblivion. Wato looked at the dark night sky above, they were sitting on the ledge of the building from which the gallery owner, Mr Yanagisawa, had fallen. Before she could form another thought, Wato saw Sherlock lean her body closer to the edge and before she could stop her, halt her, Sherlock was falling down and Wato watched her fall screaming helplessly. 

„Wato, wake up, Wato.”

She opened her eyes. She was sitting upright. Her throat was dry, she could taste the blood in her mouth, she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, she couldn't breathe. She was drowning.

„Wato, hey, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

She felt soft sheets in her clenched fists. The sheets had a familiar flowery pattern on them. She was in a bed, no, she was in her bed in 221B, that’s where she was. Yes, that's why the flowers looked familiar.

There was a faint sound close to her. A voice. The voice was addressing her but she was underwater.

„You’re okay, I promise, can you unclench your jaw? I think you bit your tongue. Good, okay, is it okay if I touch you? Should I.. maybe uhh," the voice paused, Wato was shaking and her vision was slightly blurry. "You need to breathe. Breathe with me, can you do that?”

She followed the voice’s instructions and shakily breathed when guided. It took what felt like hours before she was finally able to breathe without hyperventilating. She wasn't going to drown. She was going to swim up to the surface.

„Okay, now exhale.”

Wato felt a squeeze on her shoulder. The voice had a body. The body was holding her by the shoulders and watching her intensely. She lifted her head.

The body had a face. Even in the dim light of the table lamp Wato knew she knew the face. She recognized the closely drawn eyebrows, fixed eyes, perfectly shaped nose and a small mole on the chin. What a beautiful face, she thought. She knew it very well.

„Sherlock?” she whispered brokenly. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

„Yes, I’m here, you’re safe, it was only a nightmare.”

A nightmare. Wato's chin was trembling and the tears were staining the covers.

„Sherlock, why are you here?” I saw you, You fell-

She felt the satin on her cheek. Arms enwrapped her back tightly, smushing her face into the material. She was being hugged. Sherlock was hugging her.?

„Shh..” Sherlock hushed.

They stayed like this, sitting on the bed until Wato’s breathing went back to normal. Only then did Sherlock pull back. Her eyes big and worried, her dressing gown damp.

„I heard you scream," the detective said with reference to Wato's question.

„I’m sorry to have woken you up” Wato whispered, a heavy feeling of guilt setting in her chest.

„No, no, you didn’t, I was still up working on the case,” Sherlock explained, but Wato could tell she was lying. „I should probably go now, that you’re better,” she said already getting up. Giving Wato space.

„No” Wato clenched her fingers on the soft satin of Sherlock's dressing gown. „Don't go yet.”

Sherlock watched her curiously, face unreadable.

„You - you can lie down next to me," she continued.  "You look tired. I just need a second. I need to – „ _know this is real know I'm real know I'm not alone make sure you’re safe I need to make sure you’re real that this is real that I'm safe that we’re safe I need a body to ground me so that i won't fall so that I'll be sure you won't be falling_  
„Okay,” said Sherlock, switching off the light. She climbed onto the bed and carefully took space next to Wato. Wato lied down too and shut her eyes tightly. She felt the warmth of Sherlock close to her. If she moved her hand a centimetre they would be touching.

The quiet grew. Began bringing unwelcome images and turning to static.

„Could you..” Wato spoke up „..talk about something?”

Sherlock shifted to the side to face her. She could sense Sherlock's eyes on her, watching keenly in her peculiar observing manner but the detective hesitated with words for long enough to make Wato think about what a hassle she is and how she's asking for too much in the middle of the night after disturbing Sherlock's bedtime/insomniac case solving with her relentless screaming.

„I don’t like oranges” eventually Sherlock broke the silence. „The fruit not the hue. The colour is alright, I suppose, but the fruit is too acidic and squishy and it always stains everything. It doesn't even taste good. They would always serve orange juice with breakfast in England and it was terrible.”

„How about tangerines?"

„Sweeter but just as evil,” she said in a serious tone. Wato was bitting down a smile at the strong conviction.

„How was England? Did you like it there?” She asked, prompting the detective to talk about so rarely mentioned past.

„It was adequate.”

„Oh come on, tell me something. Have you ever been to a pub? Watched a football game? Drunk tea at 5 pm?”

Sherlock chuckled at that.

„Aren’t you being a little stereotypical?”

Wato huffed. „That’s what I would have done” she mumbled.

„But to answer your question, I have visited the pub, they’re pretty common, it’s like asking if you ever been to a sushi restaurant here, you know. I've watched one football game for research and I have drunk tea at 5 pm, it’s only obligatory when in England, isn't it?”

Wato snorted quietly then opened her eyes and rolled to her side to face Sherlock.

„What research did you watch football for? Wanted to impress a boy?” she teased. / _or a girl_ /, her mind supplied but she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she took in a display in front of her. Sherlock's cheek was squashed into the pillow, her hair utter disarray like black ink splashed on the white pillowcase. Her eyes, although alert as always, were beginning to show the toll of staying awake at night - the blinking got slower and it took some force to keep the eyelids from staying shut.

„Boy?" she asked slowly, surprise obvious in her voice. "I was learning about the football industry and physical condition of the players as I was suspecting one of the local teams of drug usage, not wasting my time on impressing anybody,” Sherlock explained.

„Oh, come on! Don't tell me you didn't date during your university years.”

„Too busy studying,” she dismissed.

„So you never dated anyone?”

„Nope.”

„Never been in love either?”

„Huh?”

„Haven't you ever been in love?”

Wato could feel her heartbeat racing but it was so unlike the previously experienced panic, it was dangerous but thrilling. She welcomed it spread to the tips of her fingers, the fingers which were so close to Sherlock's...

Dangerous. It was bloody dangerous to ask your crush and best friend about their love life and hope that maybe your heart won't end up in shreds by the end of this conversation. Pretend it doesn't hurt you that you don't have a chance, not that Wato ever thought she might have a chance with the brilliant and sophisticated detective who uses designer's clothes to wrap dismembered bodies, who not only sees but observes and who always considers every possibility no matter how unlikely it seems and... Lying here in the darkness, Wato remembered how after agreeing to let her share the flat Sherlock said she'll regret this and Wato does truly regret it.

„I am now.”

She regrets how deeply she'd fallen. How the sight of Sherlock doing something domestic as lazily drinking tea in mornings melts her heart, how Sherlock's cello recitals sooth her and how whenever Sherlock is being her annoying self Wato acts all angry but can't help the warmth spreading inside her. Dangerous dangerous.

„You’re in love?”

„Yep," Sherlock smiled. She smiled with genuineness and emotion she hardly ever exhibits.

„With whom? Do I know him?”

Sherlock's demeanour changed suddenly and she frowned.

„Nevermind." Sherlock rolled her eyes. "You’re calm now. Let's forget I said anything and sleep.” She made a big theatric of closing her eyes.

„Oh no, no, don't you dare change a subject sherlock. You're in love!" Wato poked her arm. "And how come I didn't know about it anyway? I thought we were friends!”

„You’re not my friend,” Sherlock said on reflex and then winced when the tone turned out to be harsher than she intended it to. The words stung Wato to the core.

„Right," and just as she was about to turn to the fall, and say goodnight maybe tell Sherlock to leave her and go fuck herself since they apparently aren't friends, Wato felt her hand being grabbed. She quirked her eyebrow questioningly at the detective.

Sherlock exhaled, loudly, sighed really.

„It’s a girl. Well, erm, a woman actually, we’re not that young.”

_Ah, so the possibility existed but I never had a chance anyway._

„Oh, it’s ok, Sherlock, I don’t mind.”

„I know you don’t.”

Course she knew.

„So why are you so nervous, do I know her?”

„I know her” Sherlock dodged the question. „She’s sweet and helpful and she makes me smile.”

„Thought only murders made you smile” Wato teases, trying to ignore the sad heavy feeling in her chest.

Sherlock shrugged, a rare small smile playing on her lips.

„She’s very brave too. She always stands up for herself and others. I didn't pay much attention to her the first time I saw her, but then she chased me down and dwelled a way into my life and it's ludicrous - I always made sure to keep my distance, deny my feelings and be abrasive so she would realize that she's worth more than the trouble that I am and she would merely go away before, but she was only getting closer." Sherlock's sight was fixed on Wato. Her fingers ghosting the back of her hand. In a voice barely audible she added: "And now she’s lying next to me."

„Sherlock…” she breathed.

„Wato, I don't want to be your friend.” If one read people well a slight tremble of her fingers would reveal to them that Sherlock was, in fact, a bundle of nerves. „I love you.”

"Me?" she asked pointing to herself with her free hand, just to make sure she heard right. Surely, she must have fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation and now she was just dreaming, but what a nice foil for the nightmare it was.

„Who else would I ever love?” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and a huge grin spreads on Wato's face.

"I love you too," she whispered, leaning a little closer.

"I know," Sherlock whispered in return, touching their foreheads together.

"No, you didn't." Wato brought her (unpreoccupied) hand to cup Sherlock's cheek.

"It was evident-"

Wato cut her short with a kiss. It was quick and chaste, but Sherlock's face still got warmer.

"Are you blushing?"

"You're hallucinating from exhaustion."

Wato huffed a laugh. She caressed the smooth jawline of her companion.

"It is pretty late, isn't it?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Was past 3 am when I got here," she informed.

Wato hummed and closed her eyes, allowing herself to give in to the fatigue.

"Will you be there when I wake up?" she asked gently.

She felt Sherlock smile, then there was an arm slung over her waist.

"Don't feel like getting up anytime soon."


End file.
